In a Glass Bottle
by Noxxus
Summary: HP/DM Harry loses everything when his wife divorces him for another man. He needs a reason to keep going forward and the reason comes from one of the more unlikely places.


His black hair was done up in the way he liked. It was messy and free, a look he sort of loved. He was wearing something dark, something easy to take off. Tonight he was going to forget Ginny. Harry swung back another gulp of burning amber whisky and shuddered. Yeah, he'd forget her, alright. It would be so easy with a bottle in his hand and a stranger telling him sweet words.

The city was dark and trashy so late at night and he fit right in. The wizarding city had always turned a different color once the lights went out. No more morals and good things, it ran with a darker magic that filled the underground like a noxious gas. It made him feel stronger, more dangerous, and he'd lost his job so he didn't give a damn of what was legal and what wasn't. His feet carried him to the same damn club it took him every time. It was a low hanging building covered in liquid light that ran down glass tubes in violent patterns. He could taste the magic in the air, feel the throb of the music, and it pulled him inside, promising to let him forget it all.

Inside was dark but then it wasn't and light was everywhere and everyone was dancing like their life depended on it. Harry could feel it sway his body, tugging gently on him to move. He moved, a jumble of dance moves he picked up from frequenting the place so much and whatever the music made his body do. Someone passed him a drink and he laughed and passed it back. Hands groped him from different directions but he was too far gone to car. The lights flashed so many different colors, he saw them even when he closed his eyes. His body throbbed with the beat as though his heart was the wild noises.

Every step took him away from the pain, took him away from the constant regret that was his entire marriage. He was gasping for air and then yelling along with lyrics he'd long ago memorized, because the club had a shit DJ who replayed the same three songs. People's sweat mingled with his own and if someone shoved him he'd shove right back. The crowd moved like a beast and every one of them were hungry. Harry could feel himself fading into the crowd. Just breathe as one, scream as one, dance as one. Alcohol was jet fuel in his veins and he wasn't going to land any time soon.

Some asshole swore at him and Harry sunk his fist right into his face. Everything was red, then green, then yellow and people were chanting and he was pounding the fucker into mincemeat. Hands pulled him away and the crowd spit him out in front of the bar. People were staring and he was fucking pissed and he could _feel _it. A bouncer was coming towards him but once he got a good look at Harry, he turned and walked away. Good. Keep walking. Harry straightened his clothes out and slumped down at the bar.

"What can I get you sweetheart?"

"Strongest whiskey you got, I'll take the bottle," Harry said.

"Fuck you will," She said, "You like fucking hell Harry."

"Do I know you?" He asked, smiling politely.

The woman's most distinct features were her vibrant red hair and various piercings but no name came to mind. Harry blinked and felt himself wobble on the stool. Her name? How was he supposed to know? The whole idea was to forget names. Forget Ginny. There it was and there was that bitter fucking taste. Harry grabbed the shot glass from her hand and swigged back the liquid. It burnt like fire down his throat and he fucking loved it. He snapped his fingers at her and his shot glass was full again and then it was empty. He felt like shit but less shit than sober.

"You look like crap, Potter. Is drunkard the new look?"

Hadn't heard that voice in a while, hadn't saw that face. A pale pointed face, silver eyes, and platinum blonde hair. He looked very nice, his hair was longer and wilder than Harry remembered. What he was doing here would have baffled even his sober brain. Draco Malfoy in a shit club like this?

"What do you want, Malfoy?" He asked.

"I was in the area and decided to hit this shit club, funny to find you here. _And_ the bartender knows you by name," Malfoy said, "I guess divorce hit you hard."

"I could say the same," Harry said, and nodded to the bartender, "Another, please."

"Finally remembered your manners," She said, and filled his glass with a flick of her wand.

"My divorce wasn't with a woman I loved," Malfoy said, "I'm not a wreck, unlike you."

"I'm offended you called me a wreck," Harry said sarcastically, drank the shot in one, and belched in Malfoy's stupid face.

"Disgusting as always, Potter," He said, his nose wrinkled.

"Why are you even here?" Harry asked, "This place is disgusting, not befitting of you." The last part was as sour as a lemon.

"Why are you here? Aren't you the savoir of the wizarding world?"

Harry choked out a laugh, "What does that count for if I can't even hold a wife?"

He rubbed his face, it felt hot. The music was making him want to move again but his legs probably wouldn't hold him. Malfoy was talking but there was a buzzing in his ears and the music was too loud. It was getting louder and louder. Irritated, he motioned for another shot. The glass was full, and then it was empty. It was filled again, and then it was empty. Malfoy was mad, he was telling him to listen to him.

"Calm down shilly," Harry slurred, "I'm fine."

"Fuck if you're fine," Malfoy said, "Get a hold of yourself!"

"Whash the point," Harry sighed, sinking down in his seat, "Whash the point? Something is mishing, iz always mishing."

"What's missing?"

"Don' know," Harry mumbled.

"Where do you live?" Malfoy snapped, "I'm taking you home. This is ridiculous, if the Daily Prophet knew about this they'd have a field day."

Harry mumbled his address and Malfoy pulled him to his feet. He took a step forward and his knees folded like jelly. The floor raced up to meet him but strong arms steadied him. The music was thudding with every stumbling step he took, supported by Malfoy. People were staring but he didn't really care, not really. It felt like floating almost. They left the club and Malfoy pulled him into nothingness, spinning on the spot.

"I'm going to puke," Harry gasped, when he could breathe again.

Malfoy drew his wand and tapped Harry with it. It felt like something slippery was in his gut but then he didn't feel sick anymore. Unfortunately, he noticed, he was also reasonably more sober. Even sober he couldn't really feel embarrassed. He drew his wand, turned the lights on and began to look for food. Malfoy watched silently by the door as he searched through his cupboards.

"I have . . ." He raised a box of cereal, "Mandroops and . . ." He let out of cry of triumph, "Pickles! Want anything?"

"Not really," Malfoy said, sitting down at the table, "Why are you living here Potter? You could afford so much better."

"Once upon a time, I could," Harry sighed, "Not anymore, Ginny made sure of that."

"What happened between you two?" Malfoy asked.

"Ginny apparently wasn't happy with me, she preferred some other fucker," He took a steadying breath, "My fault though."

"How is it your fault?" Malfoy's voice was sharp like nails.

"I wasn't good enough for Ginny," Harry said, "I should have been a better husband. She wanted kids and I wasn't ready and I kept fucking up. Don't know why you care."

"I'm a bit shocked," Malfoy said, "To be honest I thought you wouldn't let a woman walk all over you like that."

"Fuck off Malfoy," Harry snapped.

"You could do better than that Weasley bitch," Malfoy said.

"Because she's a blood traitor?" Harry snarled, "News for you, Malfoy, but I'm not a fucking bigoted fuck."

"No, because she treated you like shit," He spit, "She cheated on you, don't you _care_? How could you say it's your fault?"

Harry sighed, "It's always my fault. But I'm done talking about Ginny. You made me sober and you didn't get what you wanted, boo hoo."

He raised his wand and bottle came zooming towards him. He cracked it open and tried to take a deep gulp, but he swallowed nothing but air. Greatly irritated, he looked to see Malfoy was watching him with his wand out.

"Put it back," Harry snapped.

"Can't," Malfoy said, "And wouldn't if I could. You need to spend some time sober."

"I. Don't. Want. To. Be. Sober."

He stomped over to Malfoy and hovered over him, thunderously angry. He didn't want to remember, he wanted to forget. Malfoy stared up at him, as if daring him to make a move. Air thundered into his lungs as he tried to formulate what to say. He was the angriest he'd been in a while and he could feel himself stretching thin. Everything was bubbling up and he needed to- he kissed Malfoy.

It tasted oddly sweet and minty. Malfoy didn't seem to mind the kiss, in fact he returned in full. Harry felt time bend around them as they kissed and his heart was racing like a frightened bird. It was a hundred times better than being drunk. Malfoy stood up and pushed him up against a wall, then down the hall.

"Where's your bedroom?" Malfoy asked between kisses.

"Last door."

Clothes seemed to fly off when they got in his room. Malfoy pulled back to examine Harry and Harry did the same to him. Malfoy was lightly muscled alabaster, whatever job he had probably didn't required a lot of heavy lifting. Harry was covered in scars and muscled more than usual for a wizard, he had needed to be strong as an Auror. Their little show and tell only lasted a couple seconds before Malfoy was kissing him again.

Harry allowed himself to be moved and touched by Malfoy and in return he explored him as well. His skin was soft and Harry couldn't help but taste his neck and his chest. Malfoy's breath tickled his hair and he sucked on the skin on his collarbone. He wanted to forget, yes, but not this. Not right now. When he was satisfied with the mark he moved back to kissing. Malfoy humored him for a couple seconds before trailing kisses down his neck and leaving his own mark. Harry could feel noises slip out at the sucking on his skin; his neck was sensitive.

Every breath made him glow. He was made of light. They moved together like two storms meeting and creating the perfect disaster. An extremely pleasurable disaster. After they finished fucking and had cleaned up, they just laid together in the bed. Their bodies slightly touching. Breathing. It felt peaceful. Harry felt peaceful. He could spend an eternity here. Somehow it was different.

"You know," Draco said, "I didn't expect us to . . ."

"Fuck?" Harry let out a breathless laugh, "I think we both needed a bit of a release."

"Why'd you quit your job?" Draco asked, turning to prop himself on his side.

Harry groaned and rolled away, "Can we not talk about it?"

"I'm curious," Draco said, "Why'd you quit, Harry? It wasn't like you were bad at it."

Harry rolled back over and propped himself up on one arm, green eyes gazing into silver, "Why does it matter?"

"Because you interest me," Draco said, "I want to know why your life fell apart."

"I just fell apart," Harry said after a long silence, "I fell apart because I lost the woman I loved. I fell apart because the war left wounds that still haven't healed."

"Have you tried putting yourself back together?"

Harry scoffed, "There's no point."

It felt sick. Sick to be thinking about his past, but not painful. Something about Draco was numbing that pain. He was different, a good different. The idea of having sex with his ex-nemesis was ridiculous, and maybe if he hadn't been so fucked up he would have done differently, but he didn't regret it. He'd not regret this feeling.

"You need to try," Draco murmured, "It's hard living after something painful, but you need to try."

Harry considered what he was saying. It sounded so simple. Try. But the feeling in his throat was like fire and he still felt so empty. He couldn't even look Ron in the face anymore. He hadn't heard from his friends in months. Try. Could he try? Should he try?

"I'll try," He said finally, "But I do have a question."

"Ask me anything."

"Will I see you again?"

It sounded a bit desperate, a bit pathetic, but he _was_ desperate and pathetic. Harry wasn't sure what he was feeling, whatever this feeling was, but he knew he wanted to feel it more. He wanted to spend more time with Draco. He wanted to try. He wanted to forget, but this time he also wanted to make new memories.

"Do you want to see me again?" Draco asked cracking a smile.

Harry touched his cheek, "Yes."

"Then you will see me again, in fact," He said, "Breakfast sounds good about now. Would you like to eat somewhere with me?"

The sky outside of the window was deep blue, they'd spent the entire night awake. Harry could feel his heart slowly beating, it wasn't painful. He felt content, relaxed. Breakfast sounded great, like a dream he hadn't dared dream. Now that the idea of eating had occurred he realized how hungry he truly was. His stomach growled loudly and Draco smirked.

"I'll take that as a yes."

_**-The End—**_


End file.
